"There's no way out," he replied, utterly fascinated by the sudden transformation of the woman sitting in front of him. This was Nyota Uhura, one of the few people aboard the ship he actually respected as a threat, reduced to a cringing, cowering mess by the small space of the turbolift. This was information far too good to share; he wanted to keep this revelation to himself, to store the knowledge away for future use. And he was already plotting, already planning. If she truly wanted that knife of hers back... It would be so easy to plant it in a small, enclosed space on the ship, to lure her to its location, and simply trap her there. Or, if he were feeling particularly generous, he could simply devise a maze of small, tight spaces, with the knife as the prize at the end - but she'd have to go out the way she went in. The possibilities were absolutely endless.

"There's no way out," he repeated, shifting a little to sit on the floor in front of her. He wasn't much for torture - not physical torture, at least - but he would take whatever advantage he had over Uhura, and gladly. If their positions were reversed, he had no doubt that she would do the exact same thing to him. "Can you feel the walls closin' in, love? Can you see it? Seems tae me they were a little father apart just a moment ago..."